


Popcorn and Provoking

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Don't Let The Tags Fool You This Is Safe For Work, Double Dating, Established Relationship, Kinktober 2019, Leather, Leather Jackets, Wholesome Safe For Work Content In My Kinktober? Heck Yeah, movie date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 10:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: Going on double dates is nothing like the television shows Yahaba watched growing up had taught him to expect, but then again, nothing about dating Shirabu has gone as expected.Yahaba wouldn't have it any other way.





	Popcorn and Provoking

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 7 - Prompt: Leather

Ending credits roll across the screen. The overhead lights kick on, and Yahaba winces, shifting his head to hide his face in Shirabu’s neck.

“That was great.” Tendou hops out of his seat and stretches. “What do you think, Eita? Did you see that explosion?” He throws his arms up like he can recreate it with his hands.

Semi munches on the dismal remains of their popcorn. “I saw, Tendou.”

Shirabu nudges Yahaba. “You better be awake.”

“Sleep?” Tendou bends his neck at an uncomfortable angle. “Through the best action movie of the year?”

“You’re the only one who likes action movies,” Shirabu says.

Tendou bends his neck further. “I can’t help it if I’m the only one with good taste.”

“I’m awake.” Yahaba sits up before they can restart their popcorn fight that nearly got them kicked out of the theater earlier. “Are we gonna see another?”

“No,” Shirabu says just as Semi says, “Yes.”

Shirabu narrows his eyes. “We’re not watching your romance flick.” Yahaba tries to speak, but Shirabu clamps his hand over his mouth. “No horror either.”

Shoving his hand away, Yahaba leans across him to look at Semi. “Come with me to the late showing, and I’ll watch the romance movie with you.”

“Kenjirou, your date is date stealing.” Tendou crawls into Semi’s lap, effectively spilling the popcorn. Semi flips him off, and Tendou kisses his cheek.

Yahaba is torn between being disgusted and envious that they’re so openly affectionate. Even with only one shared arm rest between himself and Shirabu, they had yet to have any kind of hands brushing together experience that the media had promised him, despite Yahaba’s poorly timed attempt to grab his hand right as Shirabu reached for his soda.

Semi stands, lifting Tendou up in his arms, and then drops him onto the empty seat. “Let’s go, Yahaba.”

“What about me?” Tendou asks.

“You two”—he points from Tendou to Shirabu—“are going to clean up this mess.”

Yahaba looks at the popcorn scattered across the floor, some of it sticky with spilled soda. Sidestepping the worst of the mess, Yahaba follows Semi to the exit.

“Yahaba?” Shirabu stands.

Looking back over his shoulder, Yahaba blows him a kiss.

Semi chuckles.

“What?”

“It’s like you’re made for each other.” Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, he leads the way to the concession stand. “Let's skip the popcorn this time.”

“Definitely.” Yahaba scans the colorful candy boxes.

Semi orders a bag of sour gummies. His studded bracelet clinks against the chain on his wallet, but Yahaba catches a glimpse of some anime character on the front when he hands her the money.

“I think you and Tendou-san work surprisingly well together.” Yahaba sips the last of his soda.

“We’re polar opposites,” Semi argues, but his lips turn up in a pleased smile, bringing color to his cheeks. Tearing open his gummies, he mumbles, “We don’t even like the same food.”

“That’s a good thing,” Yahaba says. “If he doesn’t like what you eat, then you don’t have to share.”

Semi smiles bitterly. “That works more in his favor than mine.”

Across from the concession stand is an alcove filled with round tables. The flickering of fake candles create a cozy atmosphere. Finding no sign of Shirabu and Tendou, Yahaba pulls out a chair.

“He keeps getting pepperoni pizza.” Semi drops his candy and phone on the table. “I swear, I’m going to beat him with the damn pizza box next time.” Shrugging off his jacket, he sits across from Yahaba and stews in his vegetarian fury.

Yahaba offers a sympathetic smile, but his gaze moves to the dark fabric. He brushes his fingers against the sleeve, surprised to find how cool it feels.

Semi tosses his empty bag into the trash can. “I got it online.” He gestures to his jacket. “They were doing some holiday sale.”

“I like it.” Flipping it over, Yahaba traces his finger over the studs along the collar. “I had one for a bit a long time ago, but it fell apart.”

“Must’ve been fake leather,” Semi says. “Wanna try it on?”

“Really?”

Nodding, Semi pushes it closer to him. “Sure. We’re about the same size.”

That’s a blatant lie. Yahaba stopped growing in high school, but Semi managed to add a few inches during college, gaining just enough height to undeniably surpass Yahaba and reaffirm once and for all that Shirabu will always be the shortest member of their group. Semi gave up volleyball, but instead of letting himself go, he used the change in his routine to push himself harder, working out until he gained the kind of biceps Yahaba can only envy.

Still, the jacket slides on easily. The sleeves bunch up at his wrists, threatening to cover the tops of his hands. Popping the collar, he asks, “How do I look?”

A sly smile curves Semi's lips. “I dunno. Why don’t you ask them?”

Yahaba turns around. Tendou and Shirabu emerge from the theater, clothes disheveled. Popcorn sticks to their hair. Soda stains their shirts as if they had been wrestling in the mess instead of cleaning it.

Tendou fidgets with his bangs. “So you think they have gel here?”

“Why the hell would a cinema have-” Shirabu cuts himself off, sucking in a breath through his teeth. His eyes widen. Coughing into his fist, he mumbles, “The hell are you wearing?”

“Like it?” Standing up, Yahaba twirls in a circle.

Shirabu shrugs, not looking at him.

“Looks good,” Tendou chirps. He slings an arm around Shirabu’s shoulders. “Sexy. Right, Kenjirou?”

“Shut up.”

Tendou taps a finger to his chin. “But you know, it could be tighter. Don’t you think so?”

Face red, Shirabu stomps on his foot. “Shut up.”

Semi laces his fingers together, hiding a smile behind his hands. “You don’t seem happy. Do you want him to take it off?”

Shirabu’s eyes flash with murder, and Tendou cackles.

Shaking his head, Yahaba starts to take the jacket off, but a hand on his arm stops him. “You can hang onto it,” Semi says. He hooks his thumb back to point at Tendou. “That human furnace over there’s gonna fall asleep on me the second the movie starts.”

“Eita!” Tendou drapes himself across Semi’s back. “Is that an invitation to cuddle?”

Semi elbows his stomach. “It’s a reminder to respect personal space.” Checking his watch, he says, “I’ll get the tickets. Yahaba, can you refill our sodas? Shirabu looks thirsty.”

Shirabu raises his hand as if to punch him, but Tendou captures his arm, dragging him towards the theater. “C’mon! Let’s get the top seats!”

Shaking his head, Yahaba orders their sodas and a thing of pretzels for Shirabu. Grabbing another bag of gummies for Semi to thank him for the jacket, Yahaba thinks double dates aren’t so bad, even with the cheesy action movies.

**Author's Note:**

> Glaring venomously, Shirabu hisses, "You suck."
> 
> Semi smirks. "Two thousand yen, and the jacket is yours."
> 
> "I hate you," Shirabu says, shoving the money into his hand.


End file.
